


The Start of Something So Beautiful

by purplemoonabove



Category: Red Shoes and the 7 Dwarfs (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Beautiful Plus-Size Pride, Beauty Isn’t Everything, Beauty and the Beast Elements, But Felt There Should Have Been More, But with more Details, Disney References, F/M, Full Credit to the Creators, Girl Under a Spell, Happy Ending, Indirect References, It’s Hilarious how Prince Average Pronounces His Name, Love the film, Magic, Misunderstandings, No One Knows But Her, Princes & Princesses, Same Plotline as Film, Seven Dwarfs to be honest, Seven Men Battle for One Girl, Spell Hard to Remove, The Dwarfs need a Reality Check, The Film Deserved Better, Who are Minor Matters, Witchcraft, Witches, detailed story, multiple POVs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:46:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29226447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplemoonabove/pseuds/purplemoonabove
Summary: "This is Fairytale Island, a magical land of princes and princesses, witches and monsters.“Accidents from strange events happen all the time. That's when people call us — The Fearless Seven, the greatest heroes on Fairytale Island. Especially me, Merlin.“But everything changed the day we defeated a dragon and saved a princess; we thought we'd saved a witch, so we attacked her... But we were wrong. She wasn't a witch; she was a princess — the FAIRY princess.“How were we supposed to know?! She looks like a witch, and everyone knows that a princess doesn't look like a witch!“Anyway, she wanted to teach us a lesson, so she put a curse on us. And this was a nasty one, that turned us into little ugly green monsters whenever people looked at us. And the only way to break the curse is to get a kiss from the most beautiful woman in the world.“Are you kidding me?! With THIS face?!"....Red Shoes and the Seven Dwarfs, the entire film written down and remade with added scenery, focused POVs, and complete love (and absolute credit) to the creators on their underrated, badly marketed, and beautifully messaged remake of the fairy tale classic.
Relationships: Merlin/Snow White (Red Shoes and the 7 Dwarfs)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kit2000andAnna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kit2000andAnna/gifts).



The tower bell gonged, echoing above the ivory kingdom. 

No reaction was given, as there were no residents to notice its familiar presence—at least, not a lot. A wooden bear’s ear twitched at the sound, fully aware for who knows how long and yet how close it was, amplifying the gong as if intruding the room, never ceased to surprise her. Although, it has become bearable (no pun intended) as her wooden body no longer shook and trembled by its suddenness. 

The small bear looked over to the others. In comparison, she was both the tallest and oldest from the two, beneficial to her height of four feet. The second tallest bear held about three-fourth of her height, along with a round body in contrast to her cylinder one. In addition, the second tallest, the middle of the three, was also a boy but was just as young as she was. The last bear, however, had to be a year younger than the two, also female, and held three-fourth of his height. She was the shortest out of the three. Her figure was similar to his own, but her face was her own shape and look. The two were the same on personal appearance; the tallest had more bark, the middle had less bark, and the shortest had an equal sharing on their faces. 

Their appearances were different, but their duties were the same, as they always were for the fourth resident of this kingdom. The current royal that not only ruled this land, but was also the reason of who and what they become. 

Before the gong sounded, they already went to work early in the morning to prepare the room for the highness. The middle bear worked on pushing a large pile to a corner of the room, shadowed but mindful of any item in the pile slipping to fall. The shortest bear was picking up the items that weren’t in the pile, scattered about in her direction. The tallest bear held to a broom that matched her height and swept the items in her direction as well, pushing them to the direction of her own small pile, later to be added on to the large one. 

As she swept, her body remained calm when the familiar tinkering of the double doors was activated, unlocking themselves and opening up, allowing the morning sunlight in but was slightly covered by a figure, one that was feet taller—and entirely human. 

When the figure passed by, the tallest bear looked up in surprise before speaking of a greeting, “Hello, Your Majesty.” 

The middle bear followed, “Good morning, ma’am.” 

The shortest bear came last. “Good morning.” 

None of them received a greeting back to them, they never do and they were used to it. They understood why as her Highness, the Queen of the White Kingdom, showed no acknowledgement to them. Nor to the shadowed residence of the room, the matching wooden desk opposite from the doors with a high chair, the painted portraits hung and shadowed as well; none of them, the entire meaning of a created private office for a royal, meant nothing to her. 

All except what stood at the center of it all. 

It was the only spot in the entire office the bears had swore to never set foot upon. 

Surrounded in a thin layer of grass, barriered by lifted and broken marble off the ground, and shined by the sun, as if a natural spotlight instead of an open gap from the ceiling, laid a healthy tree with its brown bark splitting apart multiple times to create its curved branches, allowing full-grown white leaves at its tips and wherever was close by. White and brown could have been the only colors, but they weren’t, as a third color was added to the duo. 

Red. 

Ruby red. 

Apple ruby red. 

It was the main focus under the queen’s gaze. Two fresh and delicious-looking apples grew and now hung on the branches, close for the queen to reach. 

The tallest bear’s ear twitched again. The second gong was released. 

She knew this well. It was time to begin. 

“Magic tree, magic tree...” The queen spoke, such words the bear could remember by heart, “Let this morning by the time that you perform your duty...” 

The hood of her golden cape was pulled down, her view now rested from the back of the queen's head. She didn’t need to see her face, however. She knew perfectly well how she looked. 

In comparison to the portrait, the queen was clearly aging: her pale, beige skin was losing its color life and held a dullness with wrinkles and liver spots; the hair the bear viewed was styled in a bun but with a silver white taking over her natural red, making the color look like streaks; and her position was slowly but surely becoming hunched despite her efforts to maintain straight and poise. She would never say it out loud, in fear of what can be done under her Highness’ control, but she was getting close to have her see the queen less as one—and more like her grandmother. 

The mental note was common to her for weeks that she didn’t have to hold back anything to disturb the queen’s moment. It was true, but was no laughing matter. 

The angle of the sunlight began to tilt, resting directly under the tree and queen. 

The timing was perfect as always. 

The third, and last, gong was set free. 

Awe then bloomed in the room. The four watched as the two apples morphed right before their very eyes. No longer were they delicious to eat, and had become lovely... to wear. No matter how many times she and her fellow bear companions witness such an event, the sight of visible magic almost never ceased to amaze her. In a second or two, the apples snapped apart with ease and morphed from their roundish shapes into a slender and curvy pair, with inches-high and thin blocks behind at the ends. The inside held on to the apples’ inner color and with images of two apple seeds in the center as their soles. 

The red ruby apples had become a pair of apple red heeled shoes. 

The queen then reached up when done, picking one off as she continued, “...of bringing me the shoes of youthful... _eternal_... beauty.” 

The shoes slipped on her bare feet with ease. It was almost made for her.

Once settled, a gush of pink fog was released below. The magic within it swirled below her, rising up to engulf her in its pink forming twister. She accepted its actions, groaning as the magic touched her very being. The higher it went, the strong it got, and the brighter the pink than the yellow sun. 

“Oh... yes!” 

The three bears chorused their awe, the magic doing what she requested. 

“Change me!” 

The wish was granted. 

No longer did she appeared as an elder, and quickly regained the beauty of youth she held before; an exact look-a-like to her painted portrait. The silver gray in her hair disappeared, burning for the red’s return. Her skin gained back the living ivory color, almost matching the excitement and happiness the queen showed. Her posture once more straightened naturally as she stood with her arms raised close to her head. From the side angle revealed in the bears’ direction, the tallest bear gasped to herself at the returning youth on her queen’s face. Not a hint of wrinkles or the spots rested on her beautiful face. Even the make-up she wore held life, along with it! 

She was the truly the most beautiful woman she ever saw. 

“Oh! Finally!” The queen praised, admiring her now delicate and young hands. But only for a second, as shock quickly settled in. 

The pink magical fog began to sink, and took the queen’s youth with it. It came and went in a short matter of time, causing the aging queen to have her youth for a few seconds, before reverting back to her original self. By the time it was entirely gone, one of the shoes under her gown poked out. The tallest bear then felt her body tremble at the growl released from the human queen, the red shoes now as black as ash. Or rotten apples. 

“Not again!” She shouted, her anger echoing the room. “How long must I wait?!” 

Pulling the hood back on, she whipped her cloak around, heading to the entrance in returning disappointment and frustration. The sight was familiar to the bear; it was clear to understand that the magical event she and her companions witnessed on was not the first, and most likely will not be the last. 

“Clear these away!” 

Without warning, the removed shoes were thrown at the shortest bear’s direction. The force made it easy to pop the bear’s head off, tossing it away from the body. 

“Uh, oh. Head down!” The tallest bear called out, running after it. This, too, wasn’t the first time in experience. 

“Oh, pull yourself together,” the queen scolded, waving her hand back at them while the doors closed behind her. The last thing they heard was a frustrated grunt by the queen a second before the doors closed and left the bears be once more. 

“Here you are.” The tallest bear managed to get the head, and placed it back on the wondering body. Once settled, the shortest bear became aware of her surroundings, “Oh! Thanks!” 

The three wooden bears then resumed to work. The thrown pair were scattered with the items: the same shoes that has been made, worn, and failed throughout the time being. And yet, all three of them knew that the queen refused to give up. 

She has longed for her youthful self to return, and she knew that the power she held inside, a power that was fading faster than her body’s health, will make them work. The shoes have shown that the magic within them was working, but needed to last a longer time—eternity would be best for the queen’s intentions. 

But until that time comes, she will not stop. She will not disregard. She will not admit defeat on this failed experiment, no matter to how many times it was done. As long as that tree continues to live, she will get her shoes, get her goal to be successful. 

She will have her young and beautiful self again, forevermore. Not even Death himself will stop her on getting what she wanted. 

The held curl of his finger ached as it wrapped around the active pen, writing over a small, rectangular parchment paper as it became marked with unique, red symbols only the writer understood. Once completed, the marked paper was placed aside to be added on to the pile of the same pieces of paper, written multiple times. With a sigh of exhaustion, another blank piece was dragged over in front, positioned in a precise manner to avoid any mistakes. The language was no stranger to the writer, but his purpose on writing the same symbols over and over, front and back, must not involve the slightest of mistakes in his writing. Even when his hand was already killing him for writing so long. 

Merlin has been creating these symbolled strips all his life; it was his very own creation ever since he was younger, baring a connection between the symbols and the pulsing magic that ran through his veins. Right now, it seemed like parchment with symbols written in an endless repeat. But under his control, either by snapping his fingers or clapping his hands or such, the parchment would immediately morph into a streak of blue lightning, capable of striking down an enemy that comes on his path — and it has done, also on an endless repeat that Merlin couldn't keep count on. 

Because so, he was considered a hero to many on Fairytale Island, along with his fellow male companions: Arthur, Jack, Hans, Pino, Noki, and Kio. Together, they were widely known as the Fearless 7, or F7 for short. Whenever trouble strikes, someone called for their help and they would show their honor in completing such tasks... especially with the acceptable praises they received for their actions. And admiring their good looks as a bonus, of course. 

Although, an expert he was on his magic, he was no fool on its supernatural qualities. Years of practice upon concentration, focus, and agility had him aware of benefits and disadvantages that his magic, as well others’, can affect in a situation. Some people have control over it and use it for the greater good, like himself. Others who use it for such vile and selfish and cruel reasons for their own needs and satisfaction. 

Like that witch. 

His hand paused; the paper being halfway done. 

One little mistake, and Merlin wished the magic within sensed the problem before it was done. Such a disadvantage, indeed. 

Placing his pen down, Merlin brought his hands closer to him, palms facing his sight with a little wiggle from his fingers. Then, they quickly curled into fists and _slammed_ at the table. The sudden tremble caused the pile to react, tilting until it was spread out over the tabletop and close to his fists. He held no attention towards it; he wouldn’t be trembling with strong irritation and anger if so. 

“Why, why, _whhhyy_ _?!_ ” He groaned, his fists now released as he pushed back his silky brunette hair, his torso positioned to almost slide off his chair. 

His hands. His feet. His face, his body, his entire _being of existence_...! 

They now held a secret, a secret done by a mission gone terribly wrong. 

_It just wasn’t fair!_ His mind shouted. _How were we to know?! If anything, someone should at least give us a heads up – ‘Thank you so much for doing this, Fearless 7. You are all so brave and handsome and never lost any battle! By the way, though, the princess that has been taken by the dragon..._ doesn’t _look like a princess. In fact, I say she looks more like a witch...!’ Is that so hard to add in?!_

It was a simple battle, really, with their experience on confronting and defeating multiple dragons in almost every area of the island. And, of course, almost every dragon had captured a young and beautiful princess, who would give her token of appreciation with a kiss on a cheek to all seven members. They always did love battling dragons. 

But, nope! 

This one had to be a failure! Over one little misunderstanding! 

Merlin still couldn’t believe it. The woman they saved not only looked like a witch, but was an actual princess. _The fairy princess!_

He remembered well on information he read about her. Like him, she too held magic within her veins, magic that she can control at the touch of her fingers with an aura of lime green. It can also surround her body like a barrier, revealing how powerful she was. Throughout all the princesses he knew, she was the only one that was born with supernatural powers. 

If she went under a sleep curse, she would have woken herself up in a second. If she trapped in a castle, she would have attacked her way out with her green magic, defeating any guard in the best of armor within minutes. If she— _if she was attacked and captured by a dragon, she would have gotten her way out of it._

Such thought bloomed in his mind more than once, constantly wondering why after. 

Why was she there? Why did she get captured? Why didn’t she get out herself if she’s the 'all-powerful princess'? Why let them save her? Why, oh why, did she had to curse them in the end of it all? 

It had to be a trick, he suddenly thought. A trick to get them into her plan: to ruin their reputations. 

The whole situation wasn’t a mistake. It was all planned, by her. 

‘ _Oh, look at me! I’m the fairy princess! I’m so powerful and magical and green to look at! But, nope, no one wants to look at me! I’m too hideous and gruesome and I have a wart on my face as my decoration! No one wants to be near me... especially the Fearless 7._

_‘Oh, how handsome those princes are: with their good looks, dashing smiles, handsome appearances, they wouldn’t dare look at me for a second... I hate them! I hate them all! All women who are prettier than me, and all men who are so handsome that they can never be spotted with someone like me! I’ll make them pay; I’ll make them all suffer! I’ll have them all uglier than me, and I’ll start with the Fearless 7...!_

_‘Haha! It worked! My plan is a success! Thanks to that awful dragon, I was saved by them — perfect timing and closeness to finish my plan! It’s brilliant, brilliant, brilliant!’_

Merlin can picture her crackling, like a true witch ought to do. 

_‘Not so_ handsome and charming _now, aren’t_ _ya_ _?! Such gullible, ridiculous men you are to believe I actually needed_ your _help on rescuing me. Such fools... You have fallen into my trap and the only way to break it, is to have a beautiful woman kiss your ugly faces. But not just any woman, the_ most beautiful of them all! 

_‘...That is, if that would even be possible.’_

Merlin felt his eye twitched. 

_‘Look at you! Like anyone would fall in love with you!’_

His hands began to tremble. 

_‘You were fools to rescue me, and now you take the looks a fool must be.’_

His eyes closed. 

_‘A short—’_

His teeth grinded. 

_‘—green—’_

His heart slammed at his chest. 

_‘—_ ugly _—’_

His hands curled into fists once more at his hair. 

_‘—dwarf.’_

A cry of anger burst from his opened lips. His fists slammed harder on the table, sending a tremble stronger than the last. Along with it, the magic was activated; in a matter of seconds, the magic in him caused the magic on the written parchment to have his creations destroyed, turning into flashes of blue lightning right before him until disappearing into thin air. Not a hint of ash left behind. What remained, however, was the unfinished parchment, crinkled and crushed down under his right fist. 

Huffs of air were released, sent down to his lap. He can feel the magic's energy burning, an energy close but not exact to the lightning. Eventually, his breathing began to cool down until he exhaled one last huff, out of complete exhaustion. Although, his mind continued to rile up. 

She will pay. She will receive such vengeance on her selfish attack. Calling her a witch won't be enough, even when true. That woman—if she deserved to be called one—had no idea who she dealt with; she may have magic, but so did Merlin. 

Their magic will clash upon a battlefield, their green and hideous faces baring masks of anger and determination to achieve victory. Her green against his blue. It would be a first for the signature colors of nature to portray rivalry than equality. 

He wouldn’t care how long it took, even if the woman became old and greyish green! 

She will fear him. She will beg for his forgiveness. She will accept defeat under him. 

She will regret her vile actions. 

_She will get what she deserves!_

…But does she really deserve it? 

Eyes opened, still direct through sight on his lap. What? 

Does she really deserve such a wrath? Who knows what the woman was doing before the whole dragon scenario came in order: maybe she was minding her business and the attack was done because she was unintentionally in the way – or, she could have been dealing with the dragon herself but got tired and end up being captured – or, someone might have tricked the dragon into seeking revenge towards her for itself, when in reality she did nothing wrong? Vice versa, in a realistic sense? 

After all, this curse was done on him because of a mistreatment. _On how she looked._

Merlin groaned as he felt the unbearable guilt rising up within him. Oh, how he despised this feeling, that vile transparent yet visible feeling in his stomach that felt as if a burn was now activated. He just had to be raised by wonderful royals and parents, who taught him about good and bad in life, causing proudness _and_ guilt to be created as he grew up! 

Just his luck. 

A sigh of the current emotion released, he eventually got up and found himself facing his hanged mirror, a piece of reflective glass with a stuck frame of four pieces of wood as it rested upon his bookcase of spells. Not like the library back at his kingdom, but it held everything that he needed during his F7 adventures. Most of them used for everyday life. 

Eventually, he watched as the guilt in his brown eyes turn into defeat and tiredness. 

“It’s hopeless.” He grasped his chin with his index and thumb, checking out his handsome features. Normally, he would show his amusement on the looks, but his mind had tired him out. He looked ready to sleep for all eternity, and it was only the afternoon. “It would take forever to have the world see this face again. Maybe, another year or so.” 

It has been a year since the event happened, and knowing what's done every time the F7 were in presence of each other made it difficult to forget about it for one minute. Seven handsome princes and heroes they were known to the island had to live in isolation, hidden away from the civilizations by choice, to prevent anyone knowing of their curses and mock them over the irony. 

Heck, it was more ironic that the people in the village they saved during the dragon attack managed to leave completely before the curse was done. Every. Single. One of them. Gone. By the time the attack was done, they went away, running through the woods before any villager could spot them. 

Sure, once in a while they do attend a village to get some needed supplies, but as tempting it was to reveal themselves to anyone, even to a child who could be a fan of them or when trouble was done again, they didn’t. 

It would have made the job easier and faster if they _did_ take the chance, but it would have to be believable to anyone else but themselves.

A prince bearing the face of a dwarf was believable as a joke, never the truth.

His hand dropped, hitting at his thigh without a care. The mirror that held reflected memories of his smirks, his dazzling gazes, and his visible self-confidence now held to a new memory. One that was tired frustration and depression. 

“Miracles can happen... What bull.” 

The day had passed, and night has fallen. 

The island went silent as the people went into slumber, while the nocturnal roamed about without a care to whom that slept. However, one of them who sleeps wasn’t. Not with the mission stamped in her mind to care about a good night's sleep. 

The ivory White kingdom held no residents but the mentioned four, leaving the area almost deserted and abandoned. But to her, it wasn’t a choice. It was never even thought of, it just... happened, on purpose, without anyone realizing it but herself. 

She was alone in this uncomfortable silence, but in a way, it was also comforting. The silence helped her mind focus on the mission at hand, and the mission itself came with steps she must go through in order to have it accomplished—which is why her first step, or task, involved her current position: getting inside the single white and gold building separate from the main castle. 

The building that was her father’s private study. 

It was a struggle, especially since it’s been forever since she last step foot on the land—and because the queen destroyed the bridge between the buildings with her magic, which is also used for a new but temperate bridge for herself—but she managed. The building itself was half hidden by a thick, carved, marble barrier and she was successful in making it to the top, standing on the surface with a width of five or six inches. 

Perfect to limit any chances of falling... so long she doesn’t look down. 

A rope was thrown inside a large open window, the end stopping a few inches from the ground inside. Poking her head in, she analyzed the dark room. No one was present. Not a single figure moved from her sight. Still safe, the woman then climbed on the window and grabbed hold of the rope to lower herself down. Halfway through, she chose to jump to the marble floor. Harsh on contact, but quick to get the job done since she wasn’t injured. 

Standing up in defense, she looked around, searching upon the darkness. Now would have been a good time to get a flashlight if she wasn’t so urgent on getting the next task done: find the journal. Her father’s personal journal, which was basically a story book of his life, including herself and the queen. If she was right, there should be information in the journal that would help her. 

As she looked about, she then paused at the tree’s presence, now shining under moonlight. 

“Huh? That wasn’t here before,” she stated, narrowing her eyes in confusion. “What is she up to now?” She questioned, but got over it. The queen was the last thing to worry about – if she got caught. What mattered was the journal. 

She just had to figure out where in the room did her father place it. 

First, she headed to the painted portrait of herself, smiling in the same white and red outfit she currently wore with a green background. Removal was impossible due to the resistant after a pull; it must not be there, then. 

Second, her focus went over to the portrait next to it, but it was hidden behind a large, marron piece of furniture. Only a gap between them was her chance to reach over to the portrait... but it was no use. Her arm was too short and her body too big to get through the thin gap. She needed another way. 

Her brown eyes then glanced over to the large furniture that blocked her way; an object that had to be heavy enough that she would need four or five guards to drag it across the floor—with hands under a gripped edge, grunts left her lips as she effortlessly lifted and turned it at almost ninety degrees. _Wow, lighter than I thought_ , her mind noted as she headed to the freed portrait, one that had her father and a baby version of herself, sitting on his lap. 

This portrait managed to open this time, swinging as it was attached to a safe door. 

“Huh?” 

It was dark, but not enough to blind her sight. There was nothing there. 

“Huh.” It was odd. Sometimes she finds it there, but even with her hand searching, there was nothing. 

_Where is it?_

Lastly, close to the work desk, she pulled open one of the dresser’s drawers. Nothing, not even a spare feather pen or a bottle of old, dried up black ink laid inside. Frustration began to bubble up within. The journal wasn’t in any of the hiding places she hoped to find, nor was it in gullible areas as the drawer. Where on the island could it— 

She gasped. 

_What was that?_

Her eyes darted from the empty drawer to the doors creaking open. There, one of the queen’s servants rode on a magic broom, a lantern with its yellow light, shining out and illuminating to every shadowed spot for analyzing. Security work in progress. 

“Oh!” Her gasp was a personal whisper. 

Closing the drawer quick and quiet, she hid behind the dresser. The back of her body pressed up against the handles of the two drawers, the cold metal digging at her skin through her clothes. Her body held close as possible, keeping every part hidden. 

“Huh?” 

She winced, her instincts making her crouch at the confusion. Was she caught already? Did her hair give her away? 

The bear flew closer, her body tensing at the action, but it went passed the desk – and over to the dangling rope she left behind. _Whoops._

“You weren’t here before.” 

Silent as a mouse, when the bear spotted the rope, she hid under the desk and had the space between them widened. On all fours, her attention focused on the confused bear—right until the light shined at her. 

She froze, her heart slamming at her chest. She knew it, she was caught. It was a probability she knew was bound to happen, but refused to believe it. Now, she’ll never find the journal, or complete the mission. 

It was now hopeless. The queen will find out, and do a harm worse on her than what was done to her father. 

Wherever he may be, she thought as her eyes closed in defeat, she just hoped he was alright. 

“Whatever.” 

Her eyes shot open, then focused on the bear as it turned away, the light leaving her location— _not at her_ —and flew out of the room, the doors closing behind. She was once again alone in the dark and quiet room. 

So... she wasn’t caught. The light just shined close to her. 

The mission can continue. 

A sigh of relief was done before— 

“Oh! Ow!” 

She rubbed the center of her head, knocking it on the hard wood. Then, a sound was made at the exact spot. She looked up – and there it was, hidden in a secret location inside the desk this whole time. One she didn’t even figure would exist. 

The journal! 

“Yes!” 

Her body started moving before she can be aware, already getting out from underneath and brought the chair close to sit. Now in place, her body then paused when her mind picked up nostalgia; she had forgotten what it was like to sit in her father’s chair, a spot he claimed as his own until his dying breath, where he would past it and his crown to his only child. 

She remembered sitting on this chair when her father gestured on doing so. The seat had a lingering of his current body heat implanted, and later extended by her own. The cushioning was soft, just enough to last hours of sitting in a day and probably have a temperate nap – she lost count the number of times she found him sleeping, whether resting back or with his body hunched over the desk. Not to mention the reality of this seat. It was understanding that it was simply a chair, but to her since she was little, it was her father’s own seat, the second behind his throne. While the throne represented his role of a leader to their kingdom, this chair showed a man, who didn’t have it easy as king and father but did all that he could to give who and what he loved his all. 

A sigh of admiration escaped her lips. How she missed him so... 

Her hands, now delicate to the old book, opened it. Pages turned until reaching an entry upon her interest. 

_Mar. 29th_

_I can’t believe that my beloved Snow White has turned eighteen. I only wish her mother could see the kind of smart and beautiful young woman she’s become. There was a disturbance during the party, where the Castle Guards brought in a woman named Regina. They said she was a witch. But she was too beautiful to be a witch. She is an angel I have to admit. I’ve never felt such emotions. It was like destiny bring us together. And despite the warnings, I will get married with her._

The woman, Snow White, remembered that day quite well, and she wasn’t so fond with the warnings and concerns appearing once Regina arrived. But her father, her poor naïve father, was oblivious to them; through his description, her beauty made it impossible for him to be aware of a bad bone within her gorgeous being. At least, at that time. 

Snow turned the page, following the next entry. 

_Mar. 31_ _st_

_The day has finally come. I have married Regina. It was understandable to give her the care and respect she needed while she resided in the castle through my command. But once she came around, I immediately asked for her hand, and she accepted. It was marvelous! The kingdom once more had a queen, and Snow had a new mother to be there for her as much as I did. Everything seemed perfect! Except for one thing: Regina’s strange-looking mirror. At first, when she informed me about it, I did not mind. Whatever my queen wished was to be granted. But I have to be truthful through this journal than to her. I find the mirror to be pretty odd, not as natural or common as a simple hand mirror. It wasn’t what I expected, but as I mentioned before. Whatever my queen wished was to be granted._

Her blood ran cold. Such words had never been so true. And be later filled with regret. 

She then hesitated on the next entry, a small part inside wanting to leave before worry could suffocate her, but the thought of her father as she read his small and precise cursive handwriting had her calm down with a breath or two before continuing. She must find her father, no matter on what could worry or scare her. 

_Apr. 3_ _rd_

_There was something not quite right. It had been days since my marriage to Regina, and what should have been perfect was quickly becoming a disaster before my very eyes. Snow expressed her concerns, and while I admire her consideration to the residents of our White Kingdom, it caused nothing but unwanted truth. People around the castle began on disappearing one by one, and once it reached such a low number of residents inside, the disappearance was further done outside the castle walls. I have never seen such a decline before, and it wasn’t due to a strange fatal virus spreading among us! One moment this kingdom held thousands of people. Now, there may be fifty or so left. But what had me curious, however, was the strange-looking mirror. Ever since the disappearance had begun, there had been a change in the mirror. It bared strong vines on the inanimate object, as if holding itself without help from guards. I didn’t wonder before, but I do now. Is it because of that peculiar mirror?_

“I’m close,” she muttered to herself, almost a prayer sent to him. “I know I am. Don’t worry, Papa, I’m listening. What do you want me to know?” 

Snow turned a page where two entries laid alone with a blank page. Checking the pages after, they were also blank. This was it, the last entries made before his disappearance. And by how quickly the handwriting was on the last one, Snow was in for the truth. 

Gulping down her worry, her eyes began reading. 

_Apr. 15_ _th_

_I saw it! Indeed, I did! I saw it with my own eyes! Regina, talking to a tree! And the mirror was held by it, also being spoke to by her! They were right after all. She must be a witch._

_If I had the chance, I would apologize to the entire kingdom on my blind actions. They have warned me, and the end I have failed them. But not Snow, my only precious daughter. She was my last hope, the last person I don’t want to lose. I should send Snow away, to a safer place. I can’t lose her. I just can’t..._

No date was written here. 

_My dearest Snow,_

_By the time you read this, my fate will be uncertain._

_She’s coming for me now. I only hope that you can find the Fearless Seven, and ask them for help!_

_But... if my fate has been done, this may be my way of speaking to you for the last time. I love you, Snow White, and I shall pray among you and your future to never be tampered by that horrid witch. I had made my mistake, but I know you well that you won’t do the same. You are a brave, smart, strong, and beautiful young woman. Your mother and I wish nothing but the best for you._

_Your foolish father,_

_King White_

_Note: Apples; the suspicious of fruits._

The pages turned as the front cover closed in silence. The hands rested on top of the cover, then were cushions for Snow’s forehead as she bowed. If she could imagine it, her head would be resting on her father’s lap, the cover and hands being a warmth and living presence upon his thigh. His hand would smooth her auburn hair in a comforting manner, letting her rest in a peaceful silence with him, while he continued on showing his love during her slumber. 

It happened last when she was younger. Now, more than ever, was how she longed for his presence again, and in the same way, too. The reality brought her back without her eyes opening, aware that the tears blooming behind them will fall without her control. Her heartache was the cause of the tears, burning with sadness and loneliness for her missing father. 

Yes, missing. 

Not dead. 

She must remember that. 

Her father claimed that his fate was uncertain; there was a chance that he was alive, somewhere upon the island, and possibly under Regina’s power to remain hidden from his world: his daughter. 

Inhaling for five seconds, she then exhaled the large breath before straightening up and opening her eyes, her sight centered at the journal. Tears miraculously remained where they were. 

“Don’t you worry, Papa,” she spoke to the book, the only connection she had left of him. For now. “You've kept me safe. Now, I will do the same. I will find you, and together Regina’s reign will fall and we shall be triumphant... We will be together again. I promise.” 

Her body then jolted, surprised by the sudden presence of a loud gong. 

Wait a minute. 

The... 

_The gong!_

“It’s morning already?!” Her now widened eyes tore away from the book and towards the ceiling’s gap. No longer did it allowed the moonlight in, but an incoming sunlight under the tree. Regina... She will come soon. 

“I have to get out of here!” 

As quickly as she could upon her now panicking self, she clicked open the secret location of the desk, put the journal back, and headed towards the discarded rope. She got what she needed. Now she could... 

Now she... 

She... 

She didn’t know why. It just... _happened._

Snow found herself, turning away from the rope and at the tree. She spotted a change on the plant. There were two apples now placed – and she knew very well that they weren’t there when she got in. 

They shouldn’t matter to her. What mattered was the mission, and getting out of here before Regina finds her and lock her up in the dungeon! Or worse! 

...But... 

She couldn’t. Not with those apples taking her focus away. Her mind, however, recalled the last words her father had written. 

_Apples... the suspicious of fruits..._

“...But they don’t look dangerous.” 

The rope was held, then released with a lingering small swing. Her black flats stepped across the floorboard, passing over the crumbled barrier and planting on the green grass. Flicks of the tips touched her open-viewed foot but she paid no mind. The apples... they were alluring her to their presence. 

Why though? Her mind then questioned, blinking her back to reality. They’re just apples. Delicious, yes, but they weren’t her business. Why would she— 

The second gong went off. 

She didn’t have much time, but her focus remained on the apples. Or, what they were, anyway. 

A sharp gasp escaped. “What...” 

Her wide eyes and her jaw went agape, no dropping, as the apples shapeshifted before her. No longer were they the red and delicious fruits before, but apple red... shoes? 

How was that even possible? 

Then again, Regina’s a witch, so it should be. 

It then occurred to her that she was reaching out for them, but before she could pull back, one shoe snapped off the branch. It was as simple as picking apples from the apple tree. She analyzed the shoe, looking over and under and inside to see that it was, indeed, a real shoe. Looking back up to the other, she snapped it off, too. 

Now what? 

There was an energy within the shoes. An overpowering presence she never felt before. Was it Regina’s magic, or maybe its own? Was it... were they what gave Regina her powers? Through these shoes? It was possible... but it also wasn't. Regina could have been born with such power, or even learned how to gain and control it from someone else before these shoes.

These shoes meant no purpose... But then again... Snow White thought back on her memories, recalling the time the guards came with Regina. Wasn't she wearing these exact shoes? And now she was making _more_ of them?

How long has she been obtaining these?

 _How old is she really?_

Now a new illness rested in her stomach. She could be old enough to be the same age as Grandmother— _her father's!_

Maybe this could be used as a punishment.

Such thought actually surprised her, but it kept going.

This may be her only chance on getting back at Regina: by making sure she didn’t get what she _needed._ She already had what she wanted, what anyone would want. The shoes, however, were highly necessary than anything else the White Kingdom can be taken from her. 

The irritation and anger returned, not as common in normal days but always direct to the queen. Or, her vile and wicked stepmother. She had caused nothing but worries and trouble upon this land, took over as ruler, and destroyed her family's reputation with her tampering magic and enormous vines wrapping around the kingdom. Showing a perfect example on having everything in her clutches... 

She looked at her shoes, and through its shine was her reflection. Her eyes, they held a narrowed determination. 

Not this time.

If Regina gets her... so be it. 

“This is for you, Papa.” 

The third gong went off. 

The door opened, and a sudden gush of pink fog burst out, startling the queen and the bears on their own broomsticks. Once cleared up, Regina looked over in shock. 

This mysterious woman looked down at herself, then to her direction. She gasped, “Regina.” 

“No! My shoes! _Get her!”_

A thick vine appeared behind the queen, and under her command, it did so. Brown eyes widened before running off, sliding over the desk and went under before the vine ended up through the fireplace, trapped in place. 

She continued her running, but faltered back when the three bears zoomed over to her direction. With how fast they were coming and how much close she was getting to the vine, a shout released her lips as she slid under the vine, the bears ended up hitting it and had their limbs separated by the force. One bear’s head even slammed to a portrait, “replacing” the face. 

“Can I borrow this?” The woman asked, kindly to the head. 

“Okay.” 

“Thanks!” 

It had to be noted that she was aware of what a broomstick is, but not on how to use one. Shouts and gasps were released in the air as she attempted proper control on the broom as it zigged and zagged about in mid-air. 

Regina managed to duck when the woman passed over her head, before raising her hand and unleashing another vine to her direction. The focus was to get the girl, whether she was caught or blocked of entry through Regina’s control. 

Both ideas, however, had become failures to the witch. 

As the vine stretched out through the window, it eventually slowed to a stop. The mysterious woman in the red shoes managed to escape, her voice screaming over the land as the broom drove her away from the witch and the kingdom. 

The girl was so far gone that it had to be impossible to see and understand what happened after. 

When frustrated with the girl for stealing her shoes and escaping, such emotion became shock. The tree that she worked so hard on... Leaves immediately fell off, the branches curled and solidify, and the bark began to darken into dullness. 

Without the red apples to hold or create, the tree has accepted its death. 

_“NOOOOOOOO!!”_


	2. Someone So Beautiful

Another failure bites the dust on the grass they walk on. 

What number was it now? Twelve, thirteen? Merlin lost count of the times. Not like he would count them, anyway, not with the presence of defeat lingering upon him and his fellow teammates. And who was he to actually know, when he already knew the counts in feeling, the feeling on ending in failure no matter the cause. 

And the irony of it all didn’t even involve a battle, something they longed for so long. 

There were no battles, just them. And their improvised training practices. 

It was a lightbulb idea, after eating so much of the sweets Hans have made. It had Arthur lose about one percent of his strength; an “absolute no-no" for him. It did not matter whether he was a dwarf or himself temporarily— “These boys will not lose their respect now!” Arthur once claimed. Merlin was unsure if he was recalling the success he gained through his workouts before, respecting himself, or the respect he would get through awe and admiration by women who loved him. Probably both. 

Within time, the others began to join in on the workouts, retraining themselves that led up to become sparring and other sorts of training practices. One day, the triplets unintentionally managed to find a clear location not too far from where they reside, making it the official spot instead of their front yard. With a large space, no civilization for miles, and having a close distance between the spot and their home, it was exactly what they needed. Just perfect. 

The problem, however, was their bodies’ failure in adjusting to their needs. Legs were too short for running long and fast. Arms didn’t hold the same muscle strength as their human ones. And, of course, their faces were visible to every single one of them, their curses remaining to create such difficulties. 

There’s a reason why most heroes best known on the island... weren’t dwarves; thus, today’s failure as they headed back home. The Fearless Seven were more distracted by each other’s own appearances than by non-existent enemies or their own techniques. 

So much for keeping the curse out of mind. 

Was it even possible, though? They have been going through this dilemma for over a year now, and not one little bit of change was done on them. Sure, Arthur did get back the strength he was aiming for and more; and Jack’s face, with all the skin care products he got, has never been so clearer; and Hans took a hold on the sweets for healthy benefits, which involved growing a garden of vegetables; and the triples got more free time in coming up with new inventions they either showed or kept quiet about; and Merlin himself took on opportunities to focus on his powers and be welded with new techniques, better than before... 

But, _the curse!_

Doesn’t anyone care about it?! 

They were short, chubby, and green beings, for crying out loud. Excluding their hair, eyes, voices, and shrunk-to-fit clothing, they were as though came out of a fictional story book. If only it was possible to put the appearance back into such nonexistent book. 

Oh, they were so handsome before this dreadful curse ruined them. Especially how green their skin was; it was like matching with an ogre. Mini ogres they were! The woman could have at least made them yellow, or even blue. With that, it would have been cute than revolting. 

“Quit your complaining, Merlin!” His train of thought, spoken aloud without awareness, had stopped by Arthur’s suddenness. The dwarf swordsman revealed his annoyed expression on his words, Merlin pulling back at the direct closeness with his guard up. “I’m figuring out how to take this curse, and kick it where the sun don’t shine.” 

“Quite the Plan B in mind, but not as effective to _actually_ succeed.” Merlin’s questioning gaze, along with Arthur’s, deadpanned, turned over to the blond-haired dwarf. Who, as usual that not even the curse could stop him, was admiring his reflection through the silver, expensive hand mirror. It was honestly rare to see him without it for one minute. 

The eyes remained on the mirror, but his voice containing his native accented tongue opposite to Merlin’s and Arthur’s was direct to the others. “Listen, we need to find the most beautifulest princess to kiss us–” Jack finally broke away to face them, serious and annoyed in combine. “–and we’re just about run out of options!” 

The red-headed dwarf, Hans, was unamused, speaking in his voice of a different accent and obvious sarcasm: “How would a beautiful woman even see you, Mr. Invisible?” Even if they weren’t in the F7, the two can be quite the frenemies as they are now. 

But, before Jack could reply, a sound caught all seven’s attentions. One that wasn’t their own, and seemed to be... above them? 

Looking up, they were right on time to witness a surprisingly fast view of a being—at least, in Merlin’s view, what could be a being. They were going so fast it was difficult to verify whether or not if it was a person. 

“What was that?” Hans questioned. “Was it a bird?” 

“Sounded more like a girl,” one of the triplets, Pino, considered. 

“Riding a broomstick,” his brother, Noki, added. 

“With poor control,” their brother, Kio, concluded. 

It probably was. Although, Merlin did find it ironic how the triplets could come up with such an accurate description while wearing those... hats? Helmets? Helmet hats with straps to clarify which triplet is who? Whatever they may be were covering half of their faces, leaving only their ears, noses, and mouths alone. They have been wearing them for so long, he couldn’t remember what their hair and eyes looked like. Do they ever take them off? Merlin thought with a slight grimace before shaking it off and resuming the walk, the others and the curse in mind following after. 

The six resumed their declarations on breaking this curse while Merlin remained silent. The doubt that was born and growing within since the beginning now rested upon his mind, viewing their words as empty promises and soon-to-be forgotten ideas. 

The best chance they had on fulfilling the impossible would be to wish on a shooting star. 

...Though, he didn’t consider on the shooting star, actually landing in the world. Right where they resided. 

“Hey, hey! Over here, over here!” 

“ _Sí_ _,_ _sí_ _!_ Come, very quick!” 

“Look at us! Look at us!” 

The triplets’ alert had the leftover speeding up until they reached where the three stood, curious at the new sight at their feet. 

“What is it?” Arthur inquired. 

Maybe the star did grant the whimsical hope, and ended up landing on their grounds to confirm it before their very eyes. Although, by the looks of the scenery, the landing was not all proper and safe: the beige ground was demolished by a large, deep streak, kind of close to a shooting star’s tail, and by the end of it rested the correct accuracy by the triplets. A broomstick managed to stab through a tree, and within the full-bloomed treetop laid a silhouette of a figure, a woman, positioned as proof of not expecting her incoming landing. Just as much as the seven wasn’t expecting this. 

“I know a lot about silhouettes,” Jack then announced, his usual posture adding on to a sense of observation and conclusion. “And I think this shape... is a witch.” 

“Let’s not jump to conclusions just yet,” Hans then interposed. “Yes, it could be a witch, or... _Ja_ _,_ it’s a witch.” 

“The witch who cursed us!” Merlin then blurted out. The wheels in his mind were already turning from the moment Jack spoke of the word, Hans confirming after. Already, the impulses were blooming, his motivation returning. “Let’s capture her and make her break the spell!” 

The seven were quick to face the front door, but none of them left their positions. 

Their focus was simply towards the sound made inside. 

_Where it was meant to be silent._

The Fearless Seven inside the green dwarfs got to work. Merlin was first at the door, pressing his back against the surface with his ear, hearing for close sources. Arthur stood behind next, his sword raised high and ready to strike. Jack, cautious on going against such magic, crouched and held tight on the handle of his mirror, his invisibility cloak still tucked in his pants pocket. The triplets and Hans, however, were mindful but held on to revenge’s anticipation, the triplets preparing their wooden weaponry and the red-headed chef adjusting his enormous cooking pan as his famous weapon of a shield. 

Merlin then looked over, spotting and signaling Hans in silence. The dwarf chosen pointed to himself for confirmation – then looked on, lost by the sudden hand gestures received by the magician. Thinking to himself, Hans then nodded before heading over to the backway. In anyway, he managed to get the message right. 

_Go to the back to prevent an easy escape._

A whisper shared to Arthur had the swordsman nodded, then switched positions with the magician. Now, he stood a few inches away from the door, positioned to slam it down. With a shared nod to the others, them returning it back, Merlin signaled and Arthur ran. 

_SLAM!_

_“En_ _garde!_ _”_ Jack blurted, edgy in contrast to the gravity. 

“Hands where I can see them, witch!” Merlin demanded, his parchment out and ready to— 

Time slowed. 

The call had the figure before them turn. Her long and flowing auburn hair fluttered like a twirling dress. Her satisfaction morphed into surprise, her alluring brown eyes wide and centered to them. In her hands grasped half a loaf and a creamy pastry Hans made before, part of the cream now resting on her upper pink lip. 

She wasn’t the witch. She didn’t look anything like her, or any woman they ever seen and met. Her lean and tall character was armored in the gentle and delicate white fabric of a tunic with a string tied at the upper center; covering the waist with a close fabric strap, the pink matching the string; and stopping an inch below the knee-length red skirt with golden embroidery swirls at the end. The color was fairly dark in comparison to the red heels at her feet, red as the best apples in the tree. 

Arthur dropped his sword. 

Merlin’s spell fluttered freely until landing. 

All jaws dropped and bodies froze before the two. 

She. 

Was. 

**Beauti—**

_"F_ _raulein!”_

The struck awes had come to the end, horror quickly running through the six’s veins. 

“No, no, no!” 

“No, stop!” 

“I baked you some revenge!” 

Hans raised the pan. She turned around. 

_BANG!_

Merlin winced. Arthur hissed. Two of the triplets ooh’d, cringing. 

_Thud!_

The loaf bounced, leaving crumbs when settled, and the pastry splattered by the cream topping, one side a few inches away from the auburn laid-out hair. Her body now rested on the floor, on her back and unmoving with limbs in various angles. 

That was going to leave a mark. 

“HAHA!—Wait.” 

It didn’t take too long. Hans’ confusion eventually morphed into shock, his pan cluttering when dropped. Awkwardly, he looked over to the others; sheepish met with exaggeration. 

“Oops.” 

The right hand smacked Merlin’s face. 

This was bad. 

The queen was most enraged. She may not be lashing out, but one could feel it lingering, burning worse than direct contact to the sun. All because of that mysterious and beautiful lady, who managed to get on the castle grounds and stole the shoes. 

Not to mention, to the queen, despite her knowing, the entire time her Highness attempted to capture the girl, the shoes were doing their power the queen had longed for, lasting for a long period than the failed shoes before. 

Her anger was active, but concealed. With her royal position, her emotions felt stronger and longer than the shoes’ lasting power. Thus, after cleaning up the aftermath, the three bears now stood in a room separate and opposite from the apple tree’s room—well, _former_ apple tree. In the current room, there was another tree but was gigantic and durable on its own lasting magic. Trails and trails of tree roots scattered among the floor and walls, stretching out further through the windows and any open gaps in the room until it was extending and resting upon every inch of the entire kingdom. 

The roots were like the queen; it held a power so strong nothing could escape the hold. 

Along with the comparison was the object the tree held. Instead of two apples turning into small red shoes, this tree bore a giant tree branch, clutching firm and tight on a purple, crystallized gem that was actually a mirror. And one that held a face, skin of the tree bark and two eyes glowing as sunlight. It was Queen Regina’s, her possession long before her marriage to King White, a mirror whose “head” was grasped by the “body” instead of removable like the wooden bears. The tallest bear was, too, used to this tree’s power, but unlike the shoes, the mirror had it embrace limited magic for long periods of time. 

The three bears stood near the steps, silent as they watched the queen walk up the short number of marble steps, standing upon the platform with the tree and stood opposite from the mirror. It held not its face, but the queen’s. The tallest bear can see her age accelerating; there was barely any red left in her hair, and her skin was becoming grayer and grew more wrinkles. And yet her voice continued to have that same dominance since their first meeting of her Majesty. 

“Magic mirror, full of wisdom,” she began, uncaring to the repeated words. “Who is the fairest in the kingdom?!” 

The command had the image change. No longer did it keep her reflection but another. 

“The woman with the red shoes,” the mirror spoke with its deep masculine voice, answering and revealing the woman from before, shocked and riding the taken broomstick. The feet wearing the shoes tucked underneath at the end. The image faded, revealing the mirror’s face, smirking. “And also ‘wisdom’ and ‘kingdom’ don’t really rhyme.” 

To this day, the tallest bear still found this sort of magic incredible — an inanimate object, having its own personality. Or this case, _his_ own personality. 

“Cut the sass, and tell me her name!” 

“Ha! How should I know? I don’t get out much,” he deadpanned. 

“Well, you are the Magic Mirror.” 

“‘Magic’ is just my first name. It’s short for ‘Magichard’, like Richard.” 

“What _can_ you do then?” 

“I just reflect what I see, the truth,” he answered with a pride in his tone. “And the truth is... that you should see yourself right now. Right now!” 

The three bears couldn’t help themselves; the mirror was so funny! His serious aspect morphed back into the reflective glass, the queen’s aging deadpanned look staring back at her and in the bears’ viewing. Times like this made it nice to laugh again, to feel happy and free like a child should be. 

“Watch it.” 

The bears went silent. 

And there are times to not do so. At all. 

The bears remained silent as she commanded, “Distribute wanted posters to every town, village, valley, forest and forge in the kingdom, and find her!” 

Fear under her frustration, the three immediately responded by rushing out of the room, huffing and puffing as they go to do so. The last thing they would ever do was to upset the queen further — now that it can be done far too easily. Her shoes were gone, and now the lady has become the fairest in the kingdom, unintentionally snatching the queen’s most precious title, probably more precious than the shoes. It was best to please her and do whatever she says, for they were too young and fragile to give her something to calm her down. Their mindsets weren’t anywhere close to be exact with the queen’s. 

The queen groaned as she went over to her throne, plopping down with an elbow on the chair’s arm and her hand to her forehead. “I feel my power draining,” she confessed her thoughts, the tiredness clear in her voice. “I don’t have much time. The aging is accelerating.” Pulling back her skin with the palm of her hands did nothing for her face. “And only three bumbling bits of kindling for help.” 

“Perhaps you should recruit another,” the mirror suggested. “Someone who stands to gain from your success. How about this fellow...?” 

The image changed and what was shown brought out the interest in her eyes. With the mirror’s mindset closest to hers, this indeed began to please her. Benefits for her success may arrive once more. 

“Interesting. Tell me more, Magichard.” 

“Beautiful,” Hans completed the truthful word. 

She did not awake from his voice as the knockout had her residing in a bed within the seven’s mutual bedroom, resting peacefully with her head upon a soft pillow. Her unconsciousness also made her oblivious to the seven sets of eyes, four visibly shown, with a loving admiration. 

“I didn’t know anyone could be so beautiful,” Merlin then confessed. 

“How did she end up with us?” Jack questioned. 

Whether it was rhetorical or literal, it didn’t matter. Nothing, not even their curses for the first time ever, mattered than the woman. She had to be their first contact of civilization since the curse as they viewed such real and incredible beauty. 

A gentle groan escaped her, her eyelids opening. The seven sighed in awe — then immediately pulled back in shock when the woman sat up, her folded hands on her waist now apart to the sides. Adjusting, she settled over to her left, where the three of Arthur, Merlin, and Jack stood. 

Once functional, a gasp escaped. Merlin gave a gentle wave before Arthur cleared his throat. 

“Hello, my dear lady,” he greeted with a bow and hand wave. “Welcome to my home/command post. I have six roommates but my name is on the lease.” 

“I pay the rent,” Jack added after. 

“Your home,” she stated, then noticed the others. “Oh my gosh! I am so sorry!” Her smile was kind and innocent. Perfect on a lovely maiden as herself. “I was starving and I wander into this home—” 

“No, no, there’s no need to apologize,” Merlin interrupted, leaning his weight on his hand, planted on the bed. “We didn’t mean to interrupt your... stolen meal.” He shrugged nonchalantly, not a big deal. 

“If you’re still hungry, I can whip up something simple,” Hans then offered, the loving awe still shown in his eyes. “You see, I marinate the celery root in a mustardai oil—” 

“Who’s that?” 

Full attention faced over to the body mirror on the other side of the room. There showed the spoken dwarfs and the awaken beauty, who held confusion as she pointed at... 

“Uh, whooo?” Merlin drew out. 

The soft rustling from the bed had the dwarves then step aside as she got out, her focus still on the mirror as she walked over. As she got closer, the confusion morphed into surprise. 

“Wow, I look so–” 

Lovely? Beautiful? Enchanting? 

“–different. I mean, my face, and my waist and– my waist? My waist?!” Her hands rested, staring at it from the reflection then to her own person before gasping. “Oh my gosh! What, what happened to me?!” 

Her exaggerated reaction to her own reflection then spotted over to the dwarves’ reflections, confusion settling on their faces in silence. She turned over to them, her smile now sheepish. 

“Well... Heh, ha! I must have gotten up so quickly! My back— _Woah.”_

Merlin winced once more. When her arms waved about near her head, a hand covered over the spot where the hit was done, the woman wincing at the lingering feel. It had been an hour since she was out cold and he was positive that the hit was destined to leave a lingering mark. Although, it was a little surprising that her forehead didn’t show any signs of a bump forming. The hit was quite painful, after all. 

Hans himself was grimacing along, but the confusion returned when a low chuckle came from the woman. 

“Wow, that’s painful. Guess I deserve that, trespassing and all!” Another laugh, clear to hear, was forcibly released – and then she went blank, her eyebrows furrowed and her eyes directed to the side. “Wait a minute...” 

Forgetting the seven again, she turned back to the mirror. At an angle, Merlin could see the questioning on her face. 

“How hard did you hit her?” He heard Jack whisper. Hans shrugged, just as confused. 

“Ow!” 

They all blinked. The woman just pinched herself. 

“Ow!” And again. 

“Ow!” And again. 

“Ow!” _And again._

“Milady, is everything alright?” Merlin then blurted, her jumping by his sudden voice. 

“Oh! I’m fine – Ow! – Just fine.” She eventually stopped, and... just stood there. Merlin couldn’t see the emotion reflected in his viewing, but whatever she was feeling, he hoped it wasn’t reckless. 

How hard _did_ he knock out the girl? 

“Um...” 

The seven straightened, awaiting. She turned over, and Merlin’s heart skipped at the sight of her lower lip being bitten. The awe was returning; she looked so beautiful and adorable with such innocence. 

“Is that really what I look like? In the mirror. Do you see the same thing?” 

“You’re beautiful, miss,” Hans spoke for them all. The loving awe was returning to the others, as well. 

“Like an angel,” Merlin added on. 

“Really?” Absolutely. “Could it be...?” She muttered the question, staring down at her person once more. 

“Excuse me, but who are you?” 

“Oh, I’m Sno—” She cut herself off. 

“ _'Snot’_?” 

“No. No, no, no, no. Heh, my name is... R-Red Shoes.” Her sheepish grin returned with a hand clap. “Yup! That’s me, Red Shoes.” 

“Cool name. By any chance, would that be ‘Princess Red Shoes’?” 

“Of course, she’s a princess!” Arthur asserted, flinging himself on the magician, his enormous dwarf arm over his shoulders. “How could she be so beautiful if she wasn’t? Obviously. Right, miss?” 

“Obviously,” she agreed. “I am a princess... Who are you guys?” 

“I’m Merlin.” The coy nature came out, just as he pushed the arm off. “Part-time hero, full-time romantic~. And this is Jack [showing his own coy gaze], Hans [still in awe], Arthur [a grin with his muscles flexing], and Pino, Noki, and Kio [each one showing their own admiration and greeting].” 

She grinned. “No way. Your names are the same as the F7. The Fearless 7? I’m looking for them!” 

“Let me guess: you’re quite the fan, and Merlin just so happened to be your favorite,” he teased, his arms crossed while fussing his side-swept bangs. A personal favorite by many girls. 

“Well, their actions are incredible, but Merlin...? Mm, no. Not really.” 

His grin dropped and his eyes opened, pointing at the ground. 

Oh. That’s... a first. 

“Nah, that Merlin isn’t your type!” The swordsman stepped up, his pride leaking out. “You seem like a Prince Arthur fan to me.” 

“Honestly, they all are just amazing at what they do, in protecting and saving the island—” 

They grinned, some more flirtatious than overwhelmed. Almost all were. 

“—but, honestly, none of them are really my type.” 

The grins were brief as frowns took over their faces. An awkward silence now filled the room, but was unaware by the honest and innocent princess before them. Her eyes blinked once, waiting with a gentle gaze. 

“Oh...” Merlin’s mind had the wheels turning, forming an attempt to end the silence. “Well, that’s fine, because we’re not them. We’re actually completely different people.” The triplets nodded, grinning. “In no way are we the same guys, put under a curse, and changed into different forms, but only if someone looks at us. It’s very complicated.” 

A short chuckle was done by her. 

Was that too much? 

“Glad that’s settled,” Arthur muttered, stepping ahead to her again. He then cleared his voice, and his princely persona once more made display. “So, how can I assist you, my fair lady?” 

By that question alone, the dwarves were honestly surprised by the new change done. No longer did Red Shoes held an adorable sense of awkwardness and innocence, with a one hundred percent grace in beauty, and now exhibited a gravity that deflated the awe they had. It had to be important; such a gaze was familiar to the men, whenever trouble lies ahead. 

“I can’t say too much, for it is confusing enough for even me to handle, but I will say this: my father, the King of our kingdom, has gone missing. It’s most urgent that I find him, and I need help from the F7.” 

Joy began to bloom within. It has been so long since anyone requested the assistance from the Fearless 7. Noted it was a let-down due to their... ‘current conditions’, but this woman, she was a beautiful princess on a search for her father, one that plans to do so herself instead of having a servant or knights to be sent off. Her father must be truly important for her to risk her life into the paths of danger and adventure, just so he can be found. 

Not only was she beautiful, she was truly a brave and determined young woman. 

“We actually know the F7 very well,” Merlin then disclosed, his lies being smooth as spreading butter after a year of practice. “And their schedule is completely booked. Leave it to me! I’ll find your father within the month.” 

“I can do it in one week!” Hans then proclaimed. 

“Four days!” Arthur followed. 

“Three!” Then Kio. 

“Two!” Then Noki. 

“One!” Then Pino. “And a half?” 

“I already found your father, like, two weeks ago!” Jack then unveiled; his arms spread out for shoving aside the collective bunch. 

Red wasn’t amused. “What’s his name, where’s he located, how did you find him, why was he hidden, why wasn’t I informed, how safe are you actually keeping him, and do you even know what’s going on at my home enough to have him closed away instead of returning?” She spoke under one breath. 

Shell-shocked were the seven as she gazed only to Jack, her eyes deadpanned but her pink lips sly. 

Smart, brave, determine, and beautiful all in one. 

The princess was a threat through her own charms, and for once, Merlin didn’t wish to confront it. She knew exactly what to do, making them putty in her hands. 

“Uhhhh...” The poor blond dwarf couldn’t utter a single word. Her directness had his mind in a blank. Not even two simple blinks she gave were assuring. In a way, she struck him worse than any enemy Merlin struck with his own spells—this woman was active lightning! 

“Okay.” 

The gentle tone broke the shock, eyes blinking as their minds rebooted. 

“I appreciate the offer, and you guys seem very wonderful, but the F7 are my only chance in finding my father. I seriously need to find him, and I don’t care if the F7’s schedules are booked to last over a year or two. I just...” She trailed off, her eyes at the side with a sadness. Merlin spotted her hand, curling into a fist. A slight tremble was released. 

Pity arrived. She truly missed him. 

“I’m sorry for intruding your grounds,” she then spoke, low yet proper for a princess. “I must go anyway. I shall not stay any longer here, but thank you for your hospitality.” She carefully stepped aside, the dwarves allowing as the gentlemen they were, but were also tongue-tied on what to say. They didn’t want her to go. She did find them! They were the F7! 

But was it truly believable for her? If anything, she figured their names were the same because they were fans—of themselves. The irony. 

“But, princess!” Hans then blurted out. “Your condition! You cannot search in your state.” 

“That’s right!” 

“You must rest.” 

“Have the wound be mended.” 

Red looked over her shoulder, giving a smile. “There’s no need. I’m fi—” 

Her eyes had widened the same time her smile dropped. Her legs gave out, falling once again. 

“Princess!” 

“Red Shoes!” 

Her hands caught herself in time, gripping tight on the wooden frame of the bed closest to her. Her body, however, stayed in a crouched and curled up position, her forehead pressing against the cool and smooth texture. The hair curtained her face, but the tensed silence made it easy to hear the low huffs. 

The leadership in Merlin had finally made its arrival. 

“Come, you must rest. Arthur, help me bring her to bed.” The swordsman nodded before the pair gently aid her away from the frame to hold on to them, Merlin ordering the others to pull back the bed sheet. 

“No, it’s okay. I’m fine.” Such simple words held no meaning to them, too weak to accept as they effortlessly guided her over to the bed she held on to. Her body had given defeat under their grasps, then melted on the mattress, much to her conscious frustration. Once laid out, her face was compressed and Merlin could have sworn he saw her forehead pulsed. 

“Alright, forget the sweets,” Hans declared. “What you need is some tea, ice, compresses, and a simple snack to mend the headache.” 

“No!” She winced by her strong voice. “No, I’ve–I’ve been intruding long enough,” she continued, her voice lower but still clear. She attempted to sit up, but Merlin and Arthur were already pushing her back gently. It wasn’t their nature nor the others to restrain a damsel in distress, but in this case, it was necessary. “I, I have to find them. I have to find the F7.” 

“It’s a far-fetched idea, milady.” 

“I don’t care about the booking—” 

“They’re not booked.” 

The sudden directness halted her struggling. Arthur looked over to him, mindful and observant. The other dwarves did the same, some with eyes widening. What was he doing? Was he going to do it? Was he going to tell her the truth? 

Red, her eyes still closed, froze. Confusion managed to settle on her pained expression. “What do you mean?” 

Merlin sighed. “To be honest, Princess...” 

The dwarves leaned in closer, but Merlin paid no mind. His eyes were direct to the mattress as he thought of his next set of words. 

“You, you said they were booked.” 

“I... lied.” 

Arthur widened his eyes. Red’s eyebrows rose. 

“It’s because... The villagers! Yes, the villagers have been claiming around, all over the island, that they have been booked. But truthfully, they just wouldn’t admit to the truth – the F7 have been missing over a year now.” 

The dwarves had the tensions from the bodies be free, relieved. However, it may have went over and into Red Shoes. Her body went slack while facing down at her covered lap, her pain temporarily forgotten. Her eyes opened, disbelief and shock. “A year?” She whispered. 

“Yes.” Merlin, then Arthur, let go once they noticed she stopped the hassling. “Being this urgent on finding them will do you no good. It would be impossible and will take too much of your time to find them and your father.” He then glanced over to the others, noting on them listening. 

He looked back to her. She remained in her place. “You’re not going to find them now, especially in your condition. We... we may not be them, but we’re your best bet.” 

Silence held the intensity of the room, waiting for the verdict from Red Shoes. This princess truly was different from the rest. Her display of a damsel in distress held no fear of danger upon her being, but upon another, someone that was close to her. She was one that would face danger [literally] and walk it off as if it was nothing, just as long as the task she placed upon herself was completed. This moment was an obstacle to her, one that she must think on to consider if she wants to return to the path, continuing her journey. 

Not to mention that this was truly hard for her; who knows how long she was holding herself up without servants or knights or anyone who must admire her enough to aid her very needs? This holding was start to fail her. She will not rest with ease, not when her father was somewhere on the island, lurking around and possibly going through multiple events of danger... and she wasn’t there, to stop him and get him back into the sanctuary of their home. A home that most likely was in trouble, if her confession meant anything on its hidden details. 

She may be an enchanting woman that sparked the magic in his veins, but she was still a person. Only one person. One who cannot do this alone, and should be aware of that certain plans... might change. 

His own green hand curled into a fist at his side. 

“No one has ever offered me help before.” 

His fist was released. Her voice was low, almost too low to hear but the silence made it clear to know. 

All of the dwarves watched in wonder as she lifted up her head, sitting up straight. The tiredness was now settling, the headache getting worse no doubt, but wasn’t enough to make her smile nonexistent. “You guys are awesome.” 

Some eyes widened in surprise, including Merlin’s. 

“Really?” He spoke their thoughts. “You think we’re... awesome?” 

“Yeah.” Even when she was obviously tired, the kindness in her tone of voice had brought genuine smiles on their faces. “You guys are caring, and sweet, and...” 

“And not completely hideous to look at?” 

She faced him; her gaze almost hypnotizing. 

“No.” The declare and the truth in her eyes cast a spell that had him speechless. “You guys are simply adorable.” 

“You must have given her quite the concussion, my friend,” Jack then commented, heading over to pull the bedsheet up, gesturing her to lie back. Hans nodded in agreement with a side grin. “Now, let’s have you rest, _mademoiselle._ ” 

Red Shoes giggled, but allowed the settling. She gave one last glance over to the seven, her grin remaining. 

“Thank you.” 

Her eyes fluttered to a close, accepting the slumber to come again. 

“Come now.” Eyes that focused in awe at her sleeping beauty, again, then went over to the red-headed dwarf, his hand gesturing to the open door he held. “Let’s let her sleep,” he whispered. 

Multiple glances were sent to the girl repeatedly as the dwarves exited the room, each one looking over the head behind to view her, acting as though it would be their last, before exiting completely. 

“Merlin.” 

The magician paused at the center between the door and the beauty, viewing her as a delicate flower. Eventually, before Hans can repeat, Merlin went over to him, his eyes never leaving her. 

“The poor dear,” Hans then whispered for his hearing once close, showing his sympathy. “She will need plenty of rest before finding her father.” 

“Yes...” She moved a little, snuggling further in the bed. “She’s quite beautiful, isn’t she?” 

“Very. Do you think...?” 

“I believe so. She can help me break the curse.” 

“Well, until then–” A hand planted on his shoulder, Merlin turning to him. “–think you still have the ingredients to mend the headache?” 

A groan had them look over, seeing her face scrunch up momentarily. 

“I think there should be something left over.” 

Confirming, the two glanced one last time before exiting the room, their gazes on the girl as the open space from the door decreased until entirely shut, leaving the princess be. 

“Uh, Merlin?” 

“Yes?” 

“...Where are we going to sleep tonight?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those unaware of the film and a little confused by the mention of accents, the characters gained voice actors not just representing American accents, but also European, mainly for the princes/dwarves based off the country's origin for each character.
> 
> Snow White, King White, Queen Regina, the Magic Mirror, and the three bears got America.  
> Merlin and Arthur, obviously, got United Kingdom, but from two separate areas. [King Arthur/The Sword in the Stone]  
> Jack holds on to France. [Jack and the Beanstalk]  
> Hans got Germany (not based off Frozen lmao) [Hansel and Gretel]  
> And, surprising to me how I didn't notice after days and days of rewatching the film, the triplets—Pino, Noki, and Kio—got Italy.
> 
> Now the Italian accents I already knew from the start. Sadly, it was their names that didn't function.
> 
> Pino+Noki+Kio=Pinocchio. How did I not get that?! It was right there!
> 
> The puppet's father had the accent! The triplets' newest creation, that will be shown in the next chapter, was based off the puppet!
> 
> HOW?! HOW BLIND AM I FOR NOT NOTICING THAT?!!  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> Hope you guys like the chapter. Please leave kudos and a comment below.
> 
> Will see you again in the next chapter.


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